The Bridemaids Story
by Tinka1
Summary: Anne thinks of what could have been....


A Bridesmaid's Story  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own anything.  
  
Authors note: Reference to first 'Anne' movie, and I guess second. All the pretty lines of poetry are borrowed from the wonderful Russian poet, Pushkin.  
  
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The storms of ruthless dispensation  
  
I sit here at the table, and watch as they dance. Their wedding cake tastes bitter, as I roll it around my mouth. Its white paste is so bland, so tasteless. My hand pushes it away, not wanting any more. The crowd applause's the couple, as the song ends and they separate to speak with family. How I could have been the one in that dress dancing in his arms to the melody of violins that would haunt our memories forever. His noble gaze resting on mine, as we move step by step in sync.  
  
My dreams and I have grown apart  
  
I sat in her room, an hour before the wedding talking of the future. She rolled his last name on her tongue and matching it with her name. But as I sat there, I let my thoughts drift from the room and down the stairs. He would be standing at the altar soon, waiting to take the vow into death. To love and to honor in sickness and health. I would stand too the side, watching the scene unfold the framework of my life before me. I would feel my heart rise from its depths as his head turns and catches my eye.  
  
The gleanings of an empty heart  
  
In his eyes, I was beautiful, I was everything. He made me smile, he made me angry, and he made me everything. He was bold enough to tell me his feelings, and I was stubborn enough to turn away. The only man I trusted with my life, I had turned away from. I was afraid of getting too close, but I did not know how close I already was. I was in love. But I sit here; the veil lifted from my eyes as my jealousy conjures up a storm within me.  
  
Day chases day, passing moment rakes  
  
And so I sit here, with this lie under my tongue. Burning at the skin, reminding my heart of the feelings he injected into my soul. The tremors he made when he was around. The friendship we shared, that laid the foundations of what could have been a beautiful love. "You two must dance," announced Diana. She pulled me away from my half-eaten wedding cake, placing my hand it into the safety of his.  
  
Than to be quite extinct within me yet  
  
We danced in silence, our body moving close. I was too afraid too look up, with these words of truth dangling on my tongue on the verge of falling out. No words needed to be uttered, the silence talked louder than anything did. Ghosts of memories floating around us whispered the love that was unspoken. I wanted to cry, I wanted to scream, and I wanted to hate. I wanted to rest my head on his shoulder, and lose myself in the blissful moment. His heartbeat was a distant sound, and I listened to its magical beat. Soon she would be the one who would be the only one who could listen to its rhythm.  
  
I have outlasted all desire  
  
I could feel my attention being drawn by his eyes, and I obeyed like a servant to a master. His brown eyes were like windows. The look of joy seemed to crack and the ache could be seen. The violins began to disappear with the people in the garden. And in our own world we were left alone. I was so tempted to bring my lips to his, and tell him the simple truth. The coolness of the metal around his finger alerted me. The web had been spun, and my revelations would only destroy it in so many more ways than one.  
  
I live in lonely desolation  
  
We said our good-byes as the dance came to an end. Our lips not moving, as he moved to one side of the garden and my body to another. Their carriage came, and party moved to its side. He moved hastily, his blushing bride in tow. I stood before the couple, another face in the crowd. She saw me, and I forced a smile onto my dismal face. Her hand grabbed mine, and squeezed it with the nervousness of a best friend. I watched in silence, as the carriage moved away. She stood in my dream, and I wanted to wake up. The question she asked so long ago came to mind, "So he is fair game?" Even then I should have known. The blushes, the way my stomach would erupt into butterflies as he ventured near me. "Why Diana Barry, if you were interested in Gilbert Blythe, why did you not say so?" Of course then, she only admired him from afar like the other girls of Avonlea. "Because," she replied. "I thought my bosom friend was in love with him." She was right. Now she had his right hand forever intertwined with hers. I took my place to the side, as the bridesmaid.  
  
Will the hour of freedom come? 


End file.
